


Something Wicked this way Comes

by Killaway



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Awkward Romance, Draco Malfoy & Harry Potter Friendship, Friends to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, POV Draco Malfoy, References to Depression, Sassy Harry Potter, Shy Harry, Slow Build, Slytherin Harry Potter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-15
Updated: 2018-06-15
Packaged: 2019-05-23 14:41:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14936252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Killaway/pseuds/Killaway
Summary: Harry is sorted into Slytherin after learning of his magic. His life from there on changes.(Basically a retelling of the series if Harry had been a Slytherin.)





	1. The Sorting Hat's Decision

**Author's Note:**

> This story will be long. And it's updates may be months inbetween. However, I do want to finish this story, as it's been one of the only Harry Potter stories I've been able to write. 
> 
> I don't know why I have such a difficult time writting stories for this fandom, but here we go!  
> (Also disclaimer. Harry was abused as a child. And while I love J.K Rowling, Harry doesn't act nearly the way he should. So, shy awkward, introverted, and abused Harry.)

Draco Malfoy, born into an all Slytherin family, with distant relations to the founder of said house, Salazar Slytherin. The colors green and silver adorn every holiday, while the sounds of softly moving water still echo through the Malfoy manor, as a reminder of the common room. 

His family is of all Pureblood, and while his path didn't deviate from his mother's or father's before him, as he too was sorted into Slytherin; it was the fact that his counterpart, as he join the ranks of the other students, clad in green and silver, was none other than Harry Potter. 

The lanky, awkward male, who knew no one else among the tables, sat, cheeks flush, due to their earlier encounter, beside Draco. Neither spoke for countless minutes as the rest of the first years were sorted. 

Now, this was Draco’s third encounter with the Harry Potter. At first, when neither knew the other, they got on fine, Draco rambling on about the Magical world while Harry asked questions. But, the second wasn't as tame. Their second Draco was undermined, by as his father states, “blood traitors”, but now they sit in an uncomfortable silence. 

At least until it seemed to bother Harry.

“I'm sorry about before. I shouldn't have been so rude.” Draco paused, although it wasn't as he was doing anything beforehand anyways. He shook his head with confusion. 

“You weren't rude. At least not by my standards, besides, you're Harry Potter, I had expected you to know about the magical world.” And Draco was poorly mistaken. Perhaps he had forgotten Harry was orphaned, yet, it wasn't that. He'd assumed that the Harry Potter was placed into a magical home; fantasies of Harry being raised by Dumbledore himself played back in Draco's mind, before he cringed. 

“I-uh. Thanks?” Harry answered, seemingly unsure. It was all very amusing, and curious to Draco. He didn't think Harry be this, anti-social.

_ No. _

_ Shy. _

“You're welcome.” Draco responded, out of habit, before glancing down at the tableware in front of them. Gold, probably only lined, goblets and platters covered the large tables. The pale male didn't register as the Headmaster spoke, his parents reciting too often what the opening speech was, for Draco to even have a need to listen. “When will we eat? It's been hours.” 

It hadn't, yet Harry seemed too eager to agree, his head nodding in earnest. 

Draco admired the male with a hard lingering intrigue. Something seemed off about The Boy Who Lived. He was too humble for Draco's liking. If he was in Harry's shoes he'd never stop boasting. 

_ He would. _

But, even if Harry didn't know why he was, he's still famous, probably rich too. Which is something to brag of, right?

As Draco lost himself in thought, the plates began to fill, after Dumbledore clapped, concluding his speech. The sounds of conversation broke him of his questions, and he glanced at Harry once more. The male seemed awestruck by the sight of food. Draco furrowed his brows, collectively adding to his plate, only grabbing what he knew he'd eat, while watching as the raven beside him dig into his food. He looked like a starved animal. 

And while Draco knew it was very rude to ask, his mother's scolding already memorized, he couldn't help but question. 

“Do the muggles not feed you? Or does your stomach have no end?” The last bit was meant to hopely downplay the seriousness of the first question. But Harry only shrugged in response. Answering verbally, mouth still full, making Draco smirk, amused. 

“I'm just not used to so much food.” It was then Harry realized his actions, and calmed his movement, reaching for his water filled goblet to wash down the scarfing of food. “Sorry.” He said once more. 

And it was beginning to irk Draco, the apologies. 

“You don't need to apologize for everything you do.” Harry's eyes widened. 

“Oh.” He seemed to want to say more, probably apologize for apologizing, but stopped himself. 

Draco didn't press the matter, although he wanted to. Instead, he ate, keeping a calm silence between two. And every so often, he'd glance at Harry, who'd returned to eating too, still hurriedly, as though someone would steal it from him if he didn't eat it quickly. 

It was only when they were called by the Prefects to follow them to the common room did they talk again. 

“We're one of the luckier houses with the common room.” Draco stated, as they group of Slytherins was guided from the Great Hall. Harry tilted his head.

“Why's that?”

“Unlike the Ravenclaws or Gryffindors, who both have to tower up seven flights of stairs, our commons is in the dungeons. Only one set of stairs to deal with.” Draco smirked, but it was quickly wiped from his face as Harry shivered. 

“The dungeons?” He asked, footsteps slowing. 

“It's not as bad as it sounds.” Draco reassured, falling back into step with his counterpart. It wasn't bad, if his parent's recollections were anything to go off of. 

_ They were right _ .

While Harry was skeptical, once they entered Draco whispered an ‘'I told you so”, before looking around himself. 

The room, while it was carved from stone, had green colored marble bricks lining the walls. The center dipped into the floor, surrounded by chairs and pillows. A large decorative fireplace, carved with a large snake as it's centerpiece, opened with a green flame.  Two large windows sat side to the fireplace, reinforced with black metal decor, looked out into the underwater of the black lake; black masses could be seen as they sawm past. On the other side were two hallways, pictures lined their walls, alongside doors. 

“Girls on the left hall, and boys on the right. All your luggage has been brought to your respective rooms.” The Perfect spoke, tearing both Draco and Harry from the rooms entrance, created by the crackling fire and soft water waves. 

Their eyes met momentarily, before they started off down the right hall. Upon entering their room, they were hit with candle light. Still bewitched to color green, it was a soft contrast to the silver bedding. 

“Right.” Harry said, sitting on the bed his trunk was on. Draco found his own alongside a divot in the wall, which had more pillows and candles laid inside it, a reading nook. 

“Cozy.” Draco chuckled, laying down on the soft silk sheets of his bed, the coolness a welcome feeling, which made him realize that the dungeon had a warming spell cast over it. 

They weren't they only ones in the room, as another bed took up the rest of the space. To whom it was for, they didn't know yet. Another door was attached to their room, their shared bathroom. Draco, always curious about the state of the restroom he had, stood and instantly entered. 

Unlike the rest of the Slytherin common room, the bathroom was pure white marble, cracks molded back in with silver and black. There was three showers, each blocked with a wall, the top half being glass. On each wall was two shelves. And an individual sink. On the other side was a wall completely made of mirrors. 

Satisfied, Draco left the bathroom, only to see a sleeping Harry. He was sprawled out his bed, trunk carelessly kicked to the floor. With a sigh, rolling his eyes, Draco closed the soft grey feathered curtains dividing their beds, before laying back down in his own. Closing the divider, he let out a long breath, before closing his eyes.


	2. Breakfast and First Day Letters

Sleep was short, as it had already been past twilight when they arrived the night before. So, to recover, they had the first day free. Those already accustomed to Hogwarts from years prior, were awake, out eating and socializing. However, Draco was being rudely woken by Harry. 

“Draco?” Harry called out, pushing Draco's shoulder softly. Draco, who'd never been a morning person, just rolled onto his other side. “Draco, come on I'm hungry.” Harry complained, causing Draco to once more be confused by the boy's actions. 

“Then just go eat. Leave me be.” Draco's voice was scratched from just waking, his eyes opened slowly as he turned to stare at the male. “Go join your Gryffindor friends for breakfast. We have the day off anyways.” Letting his face fall back onto his much too comfy pillow, he heard Harry let out a whine. 

This caught Draco's attention. 

Turning over, Draco stared, at Harry, bewilderment growing in his expression. 

“Did you just whine at me? Like a dog?” Harry's face flushed red, and Draco knew he hit the mark. Did the muggles really make Harry go this far, far enough to  _ beg _ for food? “Alright, I'm up we'll go eat.” 

And eat Harry did. 

Much like last night, Harry viciously ate his food like a starved pup. And the scene currently would have been awkward, if not for that. 

Harry had dragged Draco alongside him as he sat at the Gryffindor table; worse along Ron and Hermione. If his father found out, he'd be stuck doing muggle chores, like his house elves for a month. 

“Seriously.” Draco huffed, his own plate not even half gone as Harry ate his third serving of flapjacks. Hermione, a muggleborn, who Draco didn't have much interest in, mainly since she had her nose jammed into a book this entire time, spoke up. 

“Harry if you keep eating like that you'll make yourself sick.” Which was true, and a concern Draco had himself. Sitting across from himself, was the Weasley. Freckles dotted his face, going well with his bright auburn hair. Draco had to admit, even for being an impure magical family, they did all look magical, in the rare sense. 

“Harry. Mate, why don't we play some wizard's chess?” Draco watched as Ron pushed a chessboard, pieces colored white and red, over. 

“Don't know how to play.” Harry said, finally putting food down and glancing at the board. 

“It's like normal muggle chess, but with bewitched pieces.” Draco explained, gaining a glare from Ron, although it didn't phase the blonde. 

“No. I don't know how to play chess.” Harry restated. 

“Oh.” Ron mumbled, pulling back the board. The ginger looked disappointed, he most likely had no one else to play with, a disappointing thought. 

“We'll teach you to play sometime.” Draco piped up, gaining an oddly thankful look from Ron. It was strange, but not without gratitude, something Draco never expected from a Weasley. Beside, Draco also enjoys Wizard's Chess, and wouldn't mind a partner to play with on long sleepless nights. 

Ron mostly ignored Draco, a fact both relished in, but Hermione took note and seemed to investigate Draco's every movement. It unnerved Draco, who nugged an oblivious Harry with his foot. The male looked up from the book that Hermione place in front of him, some light reading that the girl found interesting, and shot Draco a curious look. Internally groaning, Draco tapped the table, before standing. The atmosphere was getting to him. 

Harry already friends with the two Gryffindors, wasn't prodded at like a creature from dark depths, but Draco was. Three sets of eyes watched him, one curious, the others filled with sudden relief. 

“Draco?” Harry asked, head once more titling, he really is like a dog, fresh from it's mother and into a unforgiving world. Waving a hand, Draco began to walk. The large hall was almost empty, only a few remaining stragglers were reading, or just socializing. His footfalls echoed only softly, letting others know he was leaving, but not loud enough for them to care. Except one. 

_ Harry freakin Potter _

Instead of staying with the Gryffindors, the raven haired male stood, rushed over to Draco, falling beside him, and followed. Harry seemed to want to say something, little noises leaving his lips before he could catch himself, but didn't. Without pushing the issue, they walked in silence, as they made their way out if the Great Hall. Once out, Draco stopped.

“Wanna explore?” Draco always dreamed of exploring the never-ending hallways of Hogwarts, the secret passageways and disorienting pathways. They could easily get lost, very easily, but they still had the whole day to do it. 

“Kinda.” Harry responded, shrugging. “Don't you remember what Dumbledore said?” 

_ No _

Because Draco wasn't paying attention. Because Draco was more focused on his thoughts, on the fact that Harry is a Slytherin. 

“You don't.” Harry let out a huff. “He said that the third floor is off limits.” Raising a brow, Draco responded. 

“Then lets go to the third floor.” Harry hit Draco's shoulder, shaking his head. 

“You're insane.” 

“Potentially.”

 

Instead the two headed back to the common room, Harry convincing Draco that his idea wouldn't end well. Draco agreed, only on the terms that one day they would explore the halls. Harry, reluctantly nodded, before leading the way. 

Slytherin decor attacked their eyes as they stepped inside. However, it was the white snowy owl, currently flying over head, ignored by the students within the room, with a small note tied to its claw that caught their attention. 

“Hedwig?” Harry called out, causing the snowy owl to dive until resting neatly on Harry's arm. Uniting the parchment, he read over its contents silently. “Hagrid.” He then said suddenly. The name sounded familiar to Draco, but he couldn't place a face. 

“Who?” Draco asked, eyes casting down to the scratchy writing. Broken words, somewhat illiterate spelling, and appalling grammar. 

“Hagrid, the groundskeeper.” Draco raised a brow. The large behemoth that Draco saw Harry with in Diagon Alley? Wincing the slightest, he gave a weak nod. Draco, so say the least was intimidated by the half giant. 

“And?” If Harry was being written to by the large man, he'd probably go see him, instead of just writing back. 

“He wants me to visit.”

_ Knew it.  _

“When?” Draco had a feeling he would be dragged alongside, and while he didn't care, much, it was still strange to be brought along to see a man he'd never met. 

“Anytime really. He never specified.” Oh thank Merlin. Side stepping Harry, Draco sat in the surprisingly empty divot of pillows in the room's center. And once more, like a pup, Harry followed and mimicked Draco's actions. They sat there eyes locked on one another. Neither spoke, just watched the other. Least, until another, different owl flying in from a secret corner in the room, dropped down two more parchments. The owl itself was a soft cream color, a rim of gold around its flat face, with equally as golden eyes. It then landed on Draco's shoulder, rubbing its beak against his cheek. 

“Hello Zenra.” Draco greeted, his fingers reaching up to ruffle the birds feathers. The barn owl clicked its beak apreasiately. 

“Your owl?” Draco nodded, as he glanced at the papers. 

“Our schedules,” Handing one to Harry, Draco looked closely over their classes. “Potions first with Gryffindors.” 

“Ron and Hermione.” Harry mumbled, a small smile on his face. Draco wasn't a huge fan of Harry's other friends. He could stand the Muggle-Born, but the Weasley was likely to get on his nerves. 

“Right.” Draco gave a weak nod and continued to inspect the schedule. 

The rest of the day passed relatively calm. The two Slytherins left the common room only to find their classes, before returning. To which, both retreated to their beds and talked, or read. They eventually fell asleep. 


	3. Earthy Colors

When the sun rose, Draco was already half awake. He didn't want to be, but he was. Baby blues stared at the top of his bed, as the sounds of the other two sleeping chimed through the air. Breathing in deeply, Draco let out a sigh before dropping his legs over the side. The curtain was moved beforehand, Draco held onto it as he forced himself awake. 

Breakfast would be soon, and Draco was getting bored doing nothing. Straightening himself up, he glanced at the third person in the room. Bed exposed as the curtains were never shut. 

The male was already tall for his age, his body curled up and still taking the entirety of the bed. His skin was dark, looking almost black in the shadows. Black hair draped over his face, it was curled and reached his shoulders. 

Draco caught sight of a trunk under the bed, he leaned over to look. A silver impressed tag was along the spine. It read ‘Zabini’. 

Glancing back up, he was surprised to see sharp soil colored eyes watching him. The male sat upward, glaring at the blonde. Draco gave a curious look at the feral looking boy. This Zabini seemed to radiate a wild look about him. His untamed hair falling in his face as dark eyes followed Draco’s every movement. 

“Next time ask.” The boy spoke, his voice tinted with annoyance. 

“Understood, Zabini.” His family name was familiar, as was most Pure-Blood families. Draco had never personally met one, but remembered hearing the name. 

“Blaise.” Was all he responded with, before reaching over to close the curtain. Draco let out a breath, and returned to his bed to gather his robe. 

“Who was that?” A soft voice asked. It was Harry, who'd woken during their confrontation. 

“No one, just another classmate.” Draco answered, tossing his things from his trunk to his bed. 

“He looked irritated.” Harry stated, rolling himself out of bed. His raven hair was a disaster. Pieces stuck up at every angle, and it swept across his face, unwilling to look neat. It had always looked unkempt, but now it was completely chaotic. 

“Is your hair always that unruly?” Draco questioned as he grabbed his school things. Harry shrugged, lifting his hands to tangle with his locks. They didn't sit in place, but he managed to make it look at least brushed. “Breakfast?” Draco asked, leaning on his bed, knees on the floor. Harry gave a nod. 

 

The Great Hall was packed with older students eating quickly before they were flooded with first years. Large portions of food lined the golden plates atop the tables. Different styles of breakfast, most being British, while others were clearly French or German food. 

Instinctively Draco marched toward one end of the Hall, the side decorated with yellow and green to sit along the Slytherins. However, he only heard his own footsteps, so he stopped, turning back at Harry. The male, who looked small all alone by himself, glanced to the Gryffindors, eyes landing on a pair sat near the middle; Hermione and Ron. 

Hesitating, Draco gave out a scoff. He was being undermined by two people he didn't even know. But, the way Harry seemed to curl into himself, eager to have counterparts, he gave in. With a sigh, Draco trudged back over to Harry, before guiding him to the pair by his sleeve. 

Platinum sat next to Pitch as they reached the table. The two looked up from their food, both looking surprised. 

“Get lost?” Weasley asked, mouth stuffed with toast. Harry shook his head no, before filling his plate. 

“Potter wanted to sit here, I just came along.” Draco explained as he was being eyed down by the Muggle-Born. She seemed unimpressed, or rather unphased. Draco honestly couldn't tell. 

And while the three spoke, Draco ate, while mentally noting their personalities. 

Harry is a dog. Loyal and dependent, but also filled with a kind of enthusiastic, infectious energy. His green eyes were like a doe’s; wide, bright, and curious. 

Ron was more grounded. His features more attractive than Harry's, fire red against soft pale skin. However, he's brash, and doesn't think everything through. 

Hermione isn't attractive in any sense, allowing her clear intelligence to shine through. It's clear she's anxious to do well, but confident in her abilities to do so. Draco admired her ambition. 


	4. Potions and Charms

After breakfast, the four found themselves in the dungeons. Potions was kept in the cool air, it's room quite close to the common room. 

Harry and Draco led the two to the class, before taking their seat. Draco sat toward the edge, closer to the wall, while Harry sat next to him, near the room's center. Ron and Hermione sat behind them. 

It didn't take long for the room to fill with students. Most gawked at the rooms decor. 

Stone walled, with shelves lining almost every open space. Each shelve was covered with jars and vials. Bright colors of finished potions stood out against the dull jars of ingredients. 

After scanning the room, a loud slam grabbed everyone's attention. Turning, walking dramatically down the room, cloak flying behind him, making him seem larger, the professor spoke.

“There will be no foolish wand waving within this class.” His focused eyes inspected the room. His flair wasn't detoured as he closed his robe around himself slowly, as he continued to speak. “The delicate art of Potion making isn't one to be taken lightly,” his voice wasn't harsh, but its power kept the room silent. “It may not even seem like magic to some, but you'd fail to recognize its beauty. Each brewed with familiar fingers that respect its abilities. Each liquid flowing through the body,  bewitching the mind, ensnare the senses,” The professor's eyes had landed on Draco, recognition evident within orbs. “I can teach you to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death,” His eyes flickered from Draco’s to Harry. “If you're not dunderheads as I've dealt with before.”

With the end of his speech, the room silently took in every word, processing the information carefully, as he watched them behind his hooked nose.

A small flick of his wrist, and instructions began to appear upon the blackboard. Snape gave a once over, before ushering them to get their cauldrons out. As they did, he twisted his wand once more and bottles of ingredients floated elegantly to each table. 

“Read and follow the instructions carefully.” It was all he spoke, as he prowled the room. Draco muttered to Harry to start their fire as he read over the instructions. 

The class passed by relatively easily, until the smell of burning cloth filled the room. 

“Idiot boy!” Snape growled, moving to a blonde Gryffindor boy. He was small and round in shape, face littered by pale freckles. “I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking it off the fire.” Snape scolded, but didn't sound angry. With a wave of his wand, the melting cauldron reformed, and the smell disappeared. “Restart, and pay attention.” He snarked before walking away. 

It was clear that Snape wasn't a Professor to nark with. As he kept a watchful eye and had a sharp tongue. Even behind his somewhat unsightly appearance, thick hair layered by greece from the fumes, he seemed calm. 

When class ended, Draco felt the pair of eyes watching him.

Or rather the person next to him.

_ Harry _ .

 

Harry and Draco split from Ron and Hermione during the next class, entering the charms classroom with Hufflepuffs. The room reminded Draco of a theater or a Quidditch pitch with the way the seats spread out and up. The room itself was small, the seats surrounding a singular desk within the middle. 

Draco sat at the front, Harry alongside him as class began. A small, impish figure who stood upon a stack of fraying books, greeted them. With graying tawny hair, that reached to his forearms, a scraggly beard, touching down to his shins. His voice came out, much resembling that of a mouse's squeak, and Draco hardly noticed that he had even spoke. 

“Good morning, class.” There was a choirs of replies, some were full fledged, while others were half assed, like Draco’s. “Welcome to Charms.” 

Draco glanced around the room as he listened. He hadn’t noticed their wands resting neatly atop the desks. Had then been there before? He swore his had been within his pocket. 

“Today, I shall teach you a simple spell technique.” Flitwick, whom Draco had learned the name of beforehand, raised his arm and made a small movement. Up, to the side, then back down. The students watched with curiosity, yet none seemed very interested. “Like you all may know by now, in order to cast a spell, most novice witches and wizards must say the required incantation with the spell’s movement in order for it to work.” 

Some nodded, Draco rolled his eyes, before glancing to look at the male beside him. Harry was watching in earnest, emerald eyes focused on Flitwick’s every word. And Draco had to remember, Harry didn’t know magic; so, he held his tongue, and didn’t make a remark. 

“Now, follow after me.”

 

Charms consisted of them practicing a few movements to simple spells. But, when time ran short, Draco was glad to be rid of the bore. He’d known how to cast most of the spells already, making the class even more repetitive. As he and Harry walked along the halls, to their next class, Transfiguration, a class that Draco was quite hoping for, Harry seemed beaming.

“If you could shine any brighter I’d be blind.” Harry’s expression lowered, and he mumbled an apology. “Stop apologizing. Besides, It’s not exactly a bad thing, you just seem-”

“Excited?”

“Exactly. It’s different from someone who’s been around magic their entire life.”

“Oh?” Harry didn’t say much more, the small unwarranted smile returning to his face. After a few moments of walking in the halls, Harry’s voice came out in a whisper.

“Speak louder, no one can hear you when you mumble.” Draco scorned, a small trace of amusement lingering in the words. 

“Was Flitwick…” He paused, as if debating out to say his next few words properly, “a goblin?” A fair question, Draco mused, he himself contemplating the answer.

“It’s possible. Half goblin, like the Caretaker is half Giant.” Harry paused. 

“Hagrid?” 

“Yes, I thought that’d be obvious.” 

_ Clearly not. _


End file.
